Between the Devil and the Deep Blue Sea
by DragonDancer28
Summary: With Capsule Corporation facing bankruptcy, Bulma is forced to make a decision that could cost her very soul.
1. Chapter 1 - The Sea

If she had been slightly more sober, the young woman probably wouldn't have rested her head on the dirty bar counter. She sighed heavily as she stared at the remaining beer left in her glass. A couple more wouldn't do any more harm, she knew she'd have a bitch of a hangover in the morning anyways. She raised her sapphire eyes to meet the bar tender's. She smiled meekly at him and mumbled, "In for a penny, in for a pound right? One more please Dante."

Dante chuckled at her as he filled an iced mug with a cheap lager. The woman was too drunk at this point in the night to notice a difference in quality. "Don't make me cut you off sweetheart," he chirped at her as he clunked the mug inches from her porcelain face.

The woman struggled to prop herself on her forearms to slurp at the foam slowly dripping down from the mug. She flashed a sly smile at Dante. "Don't make me take my business elsewhere," she remarked. The only response she got was a shake of the bartender's head. His casual dismissal of the threat lit a spark of rage within her. "S'not a joke!" she snapped at him, "I'm a Briefs dammit! A Briefs!" Before she could get more worked up, the kind bar keep gently tucked a lock of cerulean hair behind her ear.

"I know Bulma honey," he whispered to her, "I know." He gave her a warm smile, before turning away to tend to his other customers.

Tears rushed her eyes at Dante's affectionate gesture. She couldn't remember the last time she had been shown kindness or felt a comforting touch. She slowly allowed her head to sink back to its place on the bar counter. She pressed her cheek against the iced surface of the mug to cool her flaming cheeks. "It used to mean something," she mumbled to herself.

The name had meant something. It meant something before the economy went to shit. Before her dad died and left her a crumbling empire to fix. Before she had gotten the phone call that had ended it all.

 _"What do you mean 'no deal'?!" she barked into the phone, "Everything is already arranged! We've spent hours on this merger! How dare you back out now?!"_

 _"Our apologies Ms. Briefs," the cold voice echoed on the other line, "After going over the numbers one more time, we've concluded that it's just not in our company's best interest to tie ourselves to a sinking ship such as Capsule Corporation."_

 _"No," Bulma whispered into the phone, gripping the receiver so strongly that it pained her hands, "It's not a sinking ship, it's fine. We are bouncing back, if we merge with Inferno Incorporated we could be the strongest company on the market. Please, please reconsider."_

 _"You have our sincerest apologies," he said flatly, "But it's not going to happen. Best of luck in Capsule Corporation's future endeavours."_

 _"Yeah? Well FUCK YOU too!" she snarled as she slammed the receiver down. She sank down to the floor, one single tear escaping and rolling down her face._

She had sat in the still darkness of her room for what seemed like hours until she had mustered up enough energy to drag herself to the nearest bar.

It was all over. That was her last chance to save her father's company. Come Monday, she'd have to break the awful news to her employees: Capsule Corporation was bankrupt. She'd have to watch all their faces crumble as they realized the hellish situation they were in. She thought of all the company get-togethers, all her employees' beautiful partners and children that would be devastated by the bankruptcy.

How could this have happened? He remembered when her father had officially signed the company over to her. He had placed both frail hands on her shoulders, his eyes boring into hers as he said, "Bulma, this company is a family, and we take care of our own."

"Sorry papa," she breathed.

"Aw, now what does a pretty little thing like you have to be sorry about?" a soft voice cooed beside her.

Bulma's eye's snapped open to see a woman sitting beside her. She was twisting a cocktail cherry in between perfectly manicured bubblegum pink nails. Her long sunshine blonde locks twirled all the way down to her shapely buttocks that was almost peek-a-booing from her barely there black leather skirt. The woman wore a friendly smile, baring many pearl-white teeth. However, it was her eyes that momentarily transfixed the young drunk woman. A beautiful violet colour that burned with a cold fire behind them. The woman scooted her chair closer towards Bulma, closing her eyes and grinning even wider like a cheshire cat. "Hmmmm?" she said, "What is it baby? You let old Delilah know all about it."

The stranger's friendly demeanour and Southern drawl made Bulma smile in spite of herself. "It's nothing really," she mumbled. Bulma realized she must have been more intoxicated than she thought, she swore this side of the bar had been deserted just moments before.

"Oh honey, you may be able to trick these silly old bar flies with those lies, but I can see you're a lady with a bucket full of troubles," she declared as she popped the cherry between her blood red lips.

She snaked her long fingers onto Bulma's bare leg as she leaned closer. Her hand felt warm and comforting. Bulma raised her eyes to meet the burning violet irises and allowed herself to feel an embarrassing tingle between her legs before blushing and turning her head away. What the hell was wrong with her? She was acting like an inexperienced teenager.

"Just some financial issues, but everyone's got those you know..." The alcohol was really hitting her now. Her eyelids felt heavy and even the dim lights in the bar were starting to overwhelm her confused senses. She nearly fell out of her seat when a bright red cocktail was plunked abruptly in front of her face.

"Thank you Dante," Delilah purred at the barkeep. "You may leave us now, just us girls you know..." She snapped her fingers at the young man, and he obediently headed to the other side of the bar without a word. She turned back to the beautiful young woman who was fading fast.

"This is my treat sweetheart," she cooed as she moved her silky fingers up to Bulma's bare shoulder. "I hate to see a lovely flower such as yourself wither away in a hole like this."

"You... you don't have to, I'm.. I'm fine," Bulma stammered.

"Shush shush, I don't want to hear it," Delilah said matter-of-factly. "Now you take this sugar." All of a sudden, there was a gold card between the southern beauty's fingers. She placed the card beside Bulma as she whispered in her ear, "You get in contact with this boy of mine, he can set you up real good."

There was a sudden twirl of blonde hair as the woman left her seat and Delilah vanished as abruptly as she had appeared.

Bulma glanced at the golden card that almost seemed to repel the various liquids splashed on worn wooden counter. In black, bold letters appeared the name: "VEGETA".


	2. Chapter 2 - The Encounter

Bulma was greeted in the morning with the hangover she had predicted the night before. Her mouth tasted dry and metallic, like she had been sleeping face-first in the sand all night. She slowly unwound her body from the fetal position on the bed and started to convince herself that getting up from the bed was not only possible, but a good idea. When she finally swung her feet to the floor and raised herself up a few feet, her head pounded violently in protest. She did her best to steady her breathing as she attempted to remember what had happened last night at the bar after Delilah left. Her thoughts were fuzzy, darting away out of her reach at the last minute, like the tiny butterflies she used to hunt with her father in the gardens behind Capsule Corporation.

After taking a sip of the red cocktail the attractive, strange, woman had bought her the night before, the room had begun to spin violently. Before she had hit the cold bar floor, strong arms had swept her up to safety. Dante had carried her to a waiting taxi and must have given the driver directions to her place.

"God, did I even pay my bar tab?" Bulma mumbled to herself, "Fuuuuuuck. Dick move Bulma..." Dante would be receiving a very large tip indeed.

After a few moments of adjusting to being partially upright again. She mustered enough strength to hobble over to her bathroom to assess the damage. Her hair was tousled and her eyes were bloodshot like some sort of deranged person one avoided on public transportation. She turned the tap on full blast and poured some of her peppermint bubble bath under the cascading water. The sharp, refreshing smell smacked her dull senses to life as she immersed her aching body under the water.

She had always loved being in the water ever since she was a small child. Being submerged was always like being in a different world. Noises muffled and dull. Movement slowed. Warmth and constant pressure surrounding the body... it was like being in love for the first time. Sadly, her peace was interrupted by her brain suddenly catching a memory from last night: VEGETA. The name on the card Delilah had given her.

 _"You get in contact with this boy of mine, he can set you up real good."_

"Who the hell is this guy? Probably some sort of loan shark..." she thought to herself. "Bet that stupid bitch drugged my drink too."

Bulma exhaled sharply, frustrated that her temporary peace-of-mind had been shattered by the reality of the ever-looming clouds hanging over her. She emerged from tub and lazily dried her aqua locks while half-heartedly scrounging around her shambolic room; she had cancelled her maid services months ago in a sad attempt to pinch every penny. She was about to give up her efforts when the golden flash of the business card caught her eye. It seemed to wink flirtatiously at her in the early morning sun as she snatched it from her jacket pocket.

She dialled the number before she could lose her nerve. The soft purrs on the other line seemed to take an eternity before the dreaded 'click' of an answer.

"Yes?" a lazy drawl answered.

Her voice caught in her throat. "Um, I'm looking for Vegeta."

"Who gave you this number?" the uninterested voice continued.

Bulma's heart began to pound. His voice was deep, silky, and strangely sexy even though it was apparent this man had maybe, like herself, had a few too many last night. She swallowed and continued, "Delilah did... Anyways, she said you could maybe help me out."

"Mmmm did she?" the voice mused, "Well, Delilah says a lot of things sugar."

Bulma was already losing her patience, "Look! Cut the crap! Can you help me or not? I've got some financial issues I need assistance with and I don't have time to waste bantering back and forth with some rando!"

The line was silent for a moment and she was apprehensive that she had pushed too far. Her fears were appeased when she heard a soft chuckle on the other end. "I couldn't agree more. So, let's get to know each other better shall we? Are you free tomorrow night?"

The silence hung between them for what seemed like an eternity. "Where and when?" she finally answered.

Bulma could feel his grin through the phone as he purred, "7 at 'The Coco Ringo'."

"Fine. How will I.." she began.

But before she could finish, the voice cut her off, "Oh and Bulma, wear something nice."

The abrupt silence afterwards was soon replaced with the monotone hum of the dial tone, leaving the confused woman to stare blankly at her cellphone. The bastard already knew her name.

* * *

Her heart was already thudding in her chest as she climbed the stairs to the entrance of the high class club. She stopped momentarily to press her hand to her heart, as if she could physically stop it from failing her. Taking a deep breath, she stuck her chest out and strode confidently towards the massive, muscle-bound bouncer at the front of the line. Bulma Briefs didn't wait in lines.

Bulma could see the bouncer assessing her from top to bottom before he asked, "And where do you think you're going?"

Bulma flashed him her million-dollar smile and winked, "Why, inside of course."

"You and every other bimbo in this line babe. Now hows about you find the end of it?"

Bulma heard snickering behind her. When she whipped her head around, she saw a young woman behind her that looked like she had applied her coverup with a kitchen spatula. The woman's snickering soon stopped once her eyes met with Bulma's icy ones. "Fuck you," Bulma mouthed to her before spinning around to face the bouncer once again, "Look bud. I'm not some skank looking for a sugar daddy. I'm Bulma-fucking-Briefs. I've got an important meeting, and if you make me late, there's going to be some serious hell to pay."

"Oh yeah," the bouncer huffed, "and who's the 'important meeting' with?"

"Vegeta."

The bouncer looked as if he'd suddenly been smacked across the face with a brick. He quickly composed himself as he turned and mumbled, "Excuse me for a minute."

Bulma crossed her arms in frustration. She had forgotten a jacket and there was a definite chill in the air. The giant brute appeared once again, seemingly more nervous than before. He extended his massive arm towards the club entrance, "Puh... please come with me ma'am. He's waiting for you."

She smirked triumphantly towards the waiting crowd before following him into the establishment. Since it was the weekend, the club was pulsing with the raw energy of sex and sweat. Flashing lights and blaring music bombarded her senses as she followed the man, weaving in and out of various tables before they came to a back area of the club curtained off by massive red velvet curtains. The bouncer pulled the curtain aside. "Vegeta sir. I've brought Miss Briefs to see you."

"Are you expecting praise for accomplishing such a simple task?"

The voice echoed from a dimly lit booth upholstered in red leather. It was sharp, cold, and deadly, and seemed to cause the bouncer physical pain. Bulma was sure she wasn't imagining it. The bouncer was trembling slightly, and a single long trail of sweat was streaming down his face. Once it was apparent no answer would be given, she heard the snapping of fingers, and the bouncer darted away, leaving Bulma alone in the company of the stranger.

"Good evening." the dark figure said as he raised himself from the comfy booth and walked towards her.

Bulma felt her breath catch in her throat as she saw him for the first time. A huge crystal chandelier hung from above cast hundreds of shattered shards of light over his chiseled face. Spiky jet black hair flamed towards the heavens creating the illusion that he was larger than he actually was. Although he was not a tall man, his commanding presence and well-toned muscles that were evident beneath his collared long-sleeve shirt more than made up for what he lacked in height. But, what held her transfixed was his eyes: charcoal grey that glinted like ice illuminated by the moon.

The stranger gave her a playful smirk as he reached his hand out to shake hers, "You cannot imagine how pleased I am to meet you, Miss Briefs."


	3. Chapter 3 - The Deal

Bulma mechanically reached her hand out and allowed it to be engulfed by Vegeta's. Although Bulma usually liked to start out business deals with aggression and confidence, she uncharacteristically let her hand hang flaccid as she stared endlessly into those entrancing eyes. She could feel the heat rise from her womanhood all the way up to her cheeks. Although his eyes were cold and piercing, his skin was so warm it felt as if it would burn her hand. Regardless, she still felt a sting of disappointment when the contact was broken and he let go of her hand.

Bulma took a deep breath and found herself. She had a job to do, and wouldn't let some handsome face get in the way of keeping her family together. "Of course you are Vegeta," she smiled at him. Two can play the "Aren't-I-Just-So-Fuckable?" game, asshole.

The dark-haired man gestured politely towards the table, "Please have a seat Ms. Briefs." He sat back down in the darkened booth and motioned to an unseen person in the shadows. A beautiful waitress appeared by his side and smiled nervously at Bulma. "Pick your poison," Vegeta said playfully.

"Scotch on the rocks," Bulma said, tossing her hair nonchalantly over her shoulder. Hoping the motion would send the scent of her perfume towards the cool stranger sitting across from her. The secret to sealing a deal with a playboy like this was to drive his senses wild. She had seen first-hand how men have difficulty thinking straight with a raging boner. The waitress left promptly without a word.

"Scotch eh?" Vegeta smiled, amused as he slowly ran his finger around the rim of his half-empty drink. "A serious drink."

"I'm a serious woman," she said, crossing her arms in annoyance, "and I'm here for business, not pleasure, so let's get on with it shall we?"

"For me, the line between the two are blurry..." he smiled at her even more when he saw her eyes narrow at him in disgust, "What can I say? I love what I do. Isn't that what all the motivational posters and tattoos say these days?"

"Speaking of blurry, what is it exactly that you do? Your business card and Delilah weren't exactly clear or modest."

"I'm a saviour in a manner of speaking," he began as he raised his glass to his lips, "I help those who are down on their luck and, in return, I expect payment."

"An exorbitant one I bet," Bulma huffed.

A soft, dangerous chuckle escaped his lips as he leaned back, casually resting his arms on the booth. "You could say that."

Bulma gripped the edges of her seat nervously. What the hell was up with this guy?

"So Ms. Briefs, or Bulma. Can I call you Bulma?" Vegeta asked leaning over the table, resting his handsome face on his fists. He continued once he saw her tersely nod. "Bulma, what is it you need of me? Power? Money? Need someone taken care of? I am a man of many skills..."

Bulma held up her hand abruptly to silence him, "My company, Capsule Corporation, has recently run upon some hard times so I am looking for some financial assistance."

Vegeta raised his eyebrows. He was not used to being interrupted. But he smiled and nodded politely at Bulma's dilemma. "How much financial assistance are we talking about here Bulma?"

"For months I had been working on a merger between Capsule Corporation and Inferno Incorporated but it recently... fell through," she paused to allow the attractive waitress to place her drink in front of her and disappear once again into the shadows. To steady her nerves (and to fake an air of confidence) she swirled the scotch around the glass casually before taking a sip of the comforting nectar. "In short, to keep Capsule Corporation from going bankrupt I'll need a loan of approximately 50 million dollars." She paused for a moment, and clunked her drink down noisily onto the table. "However, if you are just some two-bit operation that can't pony up that kind of cash, please let me know now. I have no time to play around with some gangster wannabe."

The handsome stranger paused for a moment before bursting into loud uproarious laugher that echoed throughout the VIP room so loudly that it slightly shook the chandelier above. "Damn woman!" he declared, "You know how to cut right to the bone don't you?" He continued to snicker to himself while he loosened the blood red tie around his neck, enjoying his own personal joke.

His companion was not amused. How dare he treat her like some sort of joke? Laughing at her like an adult amused at a child's game of pretend. She was such a fucking idiot for thinking this moron could help her. She stood and, without a word, headed for the exit.

"Bulma. Stop."

His voice was softer, serious, and more commanding than before. She stopped dead in her tracks and whirled around to face him. "Why the hell should I? It's obvious you have nothing to offer me."

He approached her. He was close, too close. She could smell his cologne, the alcohol on his breath. She wanted to move, but found herself frozen on the spot. A rabbit staring helplessly into the eyes of a tiger. She attempted to look away to break the discomfort, but he gently cupped her face with one of his hands, forcing her to keep eye contact. "Oh sweetheart, I can offer you anything you wish. Ask me to serve you the world on a platter and it's yours. You set before me a very simple task: save this company. I can do this for you. I only ask for payment."

"What payment is that?" she breathed. His face was so close, if he leaned in just a bit...

"You Bulma." he whispered. "Be mine and I'll ensure Capsule Corporation once again rises to the top."

The young woman's face immediately flushed red at his words. She jerked her face out of his grasp and slapped him hard across the face, raking her nails across his cheek. "YOU DISGUSTING FUCK!"

Her heart was thudding in her chest and her breathing became ragged due to pure rage and panic. She had failed think of the consequences of scratching a mobster in the face. She turned to escape but stopped when she noticed her hand. Under her nails, where red blood should be, was pure, jet black.

She whipped her head around to face Vegeta. He had 3 long scratches on his left cheek, one was weeping the same black substance. Instead of looking enraged by her attack. He simply exhaled in annoyance as the skin on his face melded together. In mere seconds, the wound was healed, leaving his face as breathtaking perfect as it had been before.

Bulma could hear her blood pulsing in her ears. She felt that if she didn't concentrate on her breathing that she might forget how. His coal black eyes glaring at her. It seemed as if an eternity passed between them before she could hiss, "What the fuck are you?"


	4. Chapter 4 - The Contract

Bulma was concentrating on not hitting the floor face first. What she was seeing was impossible. People didn't bleed black and they sure as hell didn't instantly heal themselves.

Vegeta nonchalantly scratched at his cheek. Healing wasn't painful, but it was itchy and annoying. He stared at the beautiful woman standing across the room from him. Her eyes were bulging and darting around the room, most likely looking for the closest exit, but fearing that if she ran he would pursue her. He wasn't concerned. She wouldn't get far.

"Hmmmm you're not a screamer. That's nice." he mumbled to himself. He was liking this woman more and more. She was fiery, fearless, intelligent, and bold. Not to mention one of the most gorgeous creatures he'd ever seen in his lifetime. He hated to admit it to himself but he'd been more eager and aggressive than usual in trying to obtain her and now it had ended in the current awkward situation.

His voice seemed to shake Bulma out of her stupor. "What did you say?"

"Oh they usually freak out when they see. Screaming, theatrics, praying... the whole nine yards."

"I don't blame them..." she said, looking desperately around the room for some sort of weapon to use. This guy was obviously some sort of psycho and she needed to get out of there as soon as possible and phone the police.

"You could try the coat rack in the corner." Vegeta laughed. "Make sure to give me a good smack to the head... or maybe even the balls. While I'm bent over, you can make your escape."

"I... I don't know what you're talking about." Bulma was starting to feel sick to her stomach. Should she just scream? Would anyone out in the club hear her over the thumping music? "Let's... let's just forget this happened ok? I'm just going to leave and go home. I'm not going to call anyone." She looked to the waitress standing in the corner. Her eyes were like doll's eyes: passive and dead-looking. Bulma mouthed "Help me" to her, hoping some kind of female camaraderie would get her out of this predicament. The waitress lifted her head slightly to meet Bulma's eyes, but did and said nothing.

"You won't get anywhere with her. Believe me," Vegeta said walking closer towards Bulma. Bulma instinctively backed away, raising her hands in defence.

Vegeta shook his head. "Bulma, I must apologize. I was very rash and forward before. Please, sit down. Have another drink with me, settle your nerves, and let's talk." He was sure as hell not going to let this one get away and he'd rather be a gentleman tonight than resort to other... tactics.

Bulma's eyes widened as she starred at her half-finished drink on the table. "You.. you fucker..." she whispered.

"Um what?" Vegeta asked, cocking his head to one side confused. This woman's mood changes were already making his head spin.

"You drugged my drink you asshole!" Bulma shouted at him. "Oh I see how you conduct your 'business' deals now! Drug the woman, make some sleazy loan deal with her, and then have your own way with her!" She strode back to the table and nimbly dabbed her pinky finger into the liquid and plucked her phone out of her purse.

"What exactly is that accomplishing?" Vegeta asked, pointing at the glass.

"If you must know, I've invented a nail polish that changes color in liquid where date rape drugs are present. A sad necessity these days since assholes like you are everywhere!" she thundered at him, her confidence returning. This was just some run-of-the-mill creep. She had been under the influence when she saw the off-colored blood and "healing". She unlocked her phone to dial the police.

"Bulma," he began calmly, "put your phone down please."

"Why?" she cooed teasingly, "Don't like the slammer? I don't blame you, a pretty boy like you... they'll have a fucking field day!"

Vegeta sighed. He could see this woman was not used to taking orders, but giving them. "Fine," he grumbled, "If you're going to be stubborn..."

As Bulma was about to tap the final "1" with her thumb, her phone screen shattered and went black. Out of shock, she dropped it and it clattered on the ground. She stared at Vegeta, her delicate pink mouth agape. He was rubbing the back of his neck with an air of impatience about him. She removed her pinky from the drink to find no color change had occurred. Her drink had never been drugged. The blood, the healing, the phone shattering... was all real. "What are you?" she breathed.

"Not really a what, more like a who." he said, suddenly beside her. He grabbed a napkin from the table and gently dried her hand. He would take any excuse to touch this exquisite creature. Her ocean blue eyes started at him in childish fear and confusion and he felt his desire for her weigh upon him even more. He must tread more carefully lest he scare his prey away. She allowed him to place his hand on her back and guide her to her seat. He stayed seated beside her, his arm around her shoulders.

Bulma swallowed. Resigned to her fate that she would not be escaping from this room anytime soon. Perhaps the best strategy was to play along for now.

"Are you religious?" he asked softly.

"Pardon me?" she asked, perplexed.

"Like, the big man in the sky. The bible, all that jazz," he continued.

Bulma shook her head.

"Oh... well damn. That would have made things a bit easier," he chuckled. He glanced up at the waitress momentarily and she once again left the room. "Long, long ago there was an angel who served God and, let's say, he didn't like how the big guy was running things. So, one day he decides to get his own army and overthrow the dumb bastard. Now, as you can guess, God didn't like that one bit. He tosses the angel into a place of eternal darkness for the rest of his days."

Bulma stared nervously into Vegeta's eyes. They had a mischievous glimmer to them as he told this crazy story, like a small child telling their parents about a drawing they did at school that day. She hated to admit it, but it was almost endearing. She felt her heart rate spike as he squeezed her shoulders gently. His whole body radiated a white hot heat that warmed her to her very core. It reminded her of camping as a child when she would stand as close as she dared to the fire pit. The heat of the fire threatened to burn you, but it was so comforting and the dance of the flames hypnotizing...

"Bulma, the fallen angel is me."

"You're saying you're the devil?" Bulma said, wrinkling her nose in disbelief.

"Devil. Lucifer. Satan. Beelzebub. The Prince of Darkness... that one's my personal favourite," he winked at her, "Call me what you wish. But yes..."

At this, Bulma could contain herself no longer and let a nervous giggle escape her lips. "You're fucking insane," she tittered. "Or maybe I am. Maybe I'm dreaming..."

"I promise you're not," he replied. He raised his right hand in front of the disoriented woman and released a small glowing orb of flame from within his palm. The orb floated gracefully to the chandelier causing fractures of light to reflect and dance on the walls of the VIP room. Bulma couldn't help but let a tiny gasp of wonder escape.

The woman with the doll eyes returned with two fresh drinks and went back to her place in the shadows. Bulma thankfully grabbed her glass and downed it in one gulp, no longer caring if it was drugged or not. Anything to stop the slight trembling in her hands due to shock. The rush of liquor to her system flushed her cheeks a beautiful scarlet. She leaned forward slightly and a small wisp of her hair fell from behind her ear. Vegeta, upset that anything would hide her lovely face from him, tucked it back. "So beautiful," he murmured, "Looks like I'm not the only angel in the room."

With that, the mood was shattered. Bulma glared up at her host, unimpressed. She took a deep breath and pointed to the other side of the booth, "I think you'd be more comfortable over there. It's best to give a lady her personal space."

Vegeta swore under his breath and drew himself away from the fuming beauty and returned to his seat across from her.

 _Keep calm. Get her to sign and she's yours. Don't lose it now, she's close. So close._

"Better?" he asked.

"Much," Bulma chirped. "Don't think I've forgotten what you said before. What was with that 'Be mine' creepy-ass shit you were going on about?"

"Salome," Vegeta commanded. The waitress walked forward and presented him with a scroll of parchment. She was a beauty to behold in the light. Medium length strawberry blonde hair curled around her ivory oval face. Her frame was so tiny and delicate you felt as if she would shatter into a million pieces if she was pushed over, like glass. Her eyes were surrounded by lush ebony eyelashes. Bulma searched for any glimmer of emotion in those haunting eyes, but could find nothing. Salome cocked her head ever so slightly and turned her pale lips into a small frown. Vegeta coughed abruptly, however Salome was too fixated on Bulma to take the hint. "Salome!" Vegeta barked. The strange, pale woman turned to face her master and bowed deeply before backing away into the darkness.

Vegeta cleared his throat before continuing. "This is the contract I propose," he smiled, unfurling the long parchment onto the table, "No need to get into all the boring specifics but, in exchange for saving Capusle Corporation from ruin and bankruptcy, I only ask for one thing: you."

"And that means..." Bulma began.

"Well essentially I would own you sweetheart. Mind, body, and soul until you shuffle off this mortal coil. It's a pretty standard 'deal with the devil' plot. Haven't you seen any movies?" his grin becoming cheshire-like once again.

"Hmmm no sorry, I was too busy running a multi-million dollar company while you were destroying people's personal property and performing cheap magic tricks," she remarked, shifting her eyes to her broken cell phone still on the floor. "By the way, there'd better be a clause in that contract about replacing my damn phone!"

"Tsk, child's play," he uttered, rising to grab the smashed phone. He squeezed it gently and placed it back on the table, the screen smooth once again with a little apple blinking happily as it restarted. Vegeta glanced at her expectantly. She glared back at him. This woman was much more difficult than he expected. It excited him greatly and he struggled to keep a certain part of his human form under control.

"And what exactly do you want from me anyways? If you're the all powerful lord of darkness that you claim you are, what would you possibly want with a human woman?" she asked.

"Entertain me. Serve me. Do you know how boring it is being immortal? It's been at least a hundred years since I've found a woman such as yourself." he took a long sip of his drink before continuing, "It's really not so bad. You can remain on earth with your friends and family. Just think of me as your new employer."

"And... what about the 'body' part," Bulma asked, cursing herself for blushing pink, "What does that exactly entail? Cause before it sounded like..."

"Oh I absolutely intend to use you for my carnal desires," he said without a hint of hesitation. He quickly continued once he saw the woman's horrified expression at his blatant lecherous statement. "Oh come on! I said 'entertain me' what did you think that was? A game of cards?", he laughed.

Bulma starred down intently at her glass. A furious red heat emanating from her cheeks. She was incensed at him for his disgusting proposition, but even more so at herself for the skip of her heart when she pictured what it would be like to be with this man.

Suddenly, he was kneeling beside her. "Oh my dear, don't be so shy, I know how many mens hearts you've broken before. I think we could have some real fun together you and I." She was breaking, he could tell from years of experience of manipulation when someone just needed a little push further. "Bulma my dear, look at me," he said. She turned her doe-like face towards him. "Bulma why are you here? You must be desperate to turn to a shady guy like me with a tacky business card."

"My... my company," she said, "I need to save Capsule Corp."

"That's right," he encouraged, "All those people? Turned out on the street if it goes bankrupt right? You don't want that do you?" He pushed the contract closer to her. "Is what I'm proposing really so awful? You help me, I help you."

She remained stoic and silent as she mulled over the possibilities. What choice did she really have? She had done everything other than sell drugs to keep this company afloat. Hadn't she cried herself to sleep so many times saying she'd do anything to save it? What if that something was sacrificing herself for the good of the hundreds of people who depended on her. The gathering tears threatened to spill from the corner of her eyes.

"If it's the sex that's freaking you out, I assure you you won't be disappointed," he grinned, "Just think of me as your supernatural 'fuck buddy'. I'm not asking you to marry me or anything sweetheart. Just have a little fun."

Bulma sighed before grabbing the contract in front of her. "If you don't mind, I'm going to go over this."

"Of course my dear," he said backing away to give her space, "Take as much time as you need."

By the time Bulma had gone over the entire contract, the club had emptied. Its happy patrons going home with their respective partners for some rambunctious, drunken love-making. Vegeta patiently waited across from Bulma, not moving a muscle for fear he'd break the spell he had over her. She placed both of her dainty hands over the contract and stared down this man, if you could call him that. Gathering all her courage, she exhaled quietly, "We have a deal."

Vegeta's eye's were aflame with victory and it took all his self-control not to smash his fist down on the table in celebration. However, he knew he'd end up ruining a table and frighting his already skittish woman. He leaned back, interlocking his fingers behind his head, "Well, all you have to do is sign then and we can get started saving that company of yours."

Bulma started rummaging around in her purse for a pen when Vegeta started laughing softly. In an instant he was at her side, causing to to jump. "What the fuck?!" she cried, pushing him away, "Don't do that! Damn it!"

"What? I'm faster than you humans are," he chided.

"Let's hope that's the only department you are 'fast' in..." she grumbled.

Vegeta's eyed narrowed. He was losing his limited patience with this woman. It had been much hard to obtain her than he'd originally thought. He'd make sure she paid for that little jab later tonight.

"As you can guess, this is a special contract Bulma. A regular pen isn't going to cut it," he said softly. He moved his hand slowly up her arm. Her skin was soft as silk, he longed to touch his lips to it to see if it tasted as good as it felt.

Bulma, surprised by the sudden gentle contact, drew in a sharp breath. Although his touch burned as it had before, it caused her to shiver, tiny goosebumps emerging as he ran his hand up to her pinky. He drew her tiny finger to his mouth and kissed it gently. Bulma's heart pounded so forcefully against her ribs that she thought her heart would explode. "My apologies," he murmured as he bit down forcefully, his canine embedding itself into her tender flesh.

She gasped in pain and tried to tear her hand away, but Vegeta's hand held hers in an iron grip. He pulled his head back, revealing a clean, tiny cut with a small amount of blood gathering around the wound. He licked his lips, raising his eyebrows and glancing towards the contract, silently asking her permission. She nodded and he moved her hand towards the "Signed" section of the contract. He smeared a small amount of blood on the parchment, and it dissolved out of sight slowly.

Instantly, Bulma felt a heavy weight down in the pit of her stomach. For a moment she worried she'd be sick, but it soon passed. She realized she'd broken into a cold sweat and was shaking slightly. She turned to face Vegeta who's dark grey eyes were now illuminated with unbridled excitement. He removed a sanguine kerchief from his pocket and dabbed at her moist face. He never broke his hypnotizing stare as he smiled, exhilarated at his new toy.

"You're mine now."


End file.
